


Miya Atsumu, A Study

by b_mbi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Character Study, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, MSBY Black Jackals - Freeform, Started as a character study, and it kind of still is?, but also just Atsumu brainrot, like one lil section of existential dread but it’s not in detail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:41:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25104094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b_mbi/pseuds/b_mbi
Summary: Miya Atsumu is a strange character. He wields his swords like a shield. They protrude out of him like spines, protecting his heart and mind from what is beyond his control.His first impressions include, but are not limited to, rude, arrogant, and charming. Almost everyone who has met Atsumu seems to have come to a consensus, though.Miya Atsumu is an asshole.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou, and a little bit of - Relationship
Comments: 25
Kudos: 400





	Miya Atsumu, A Study

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hi, I hope ya enjoy this.
> 
> A QUICK WARNING: at the section that starts with “Miya Atsumu is many things, technically,” Atsumu is having some existential dread. It’s not described at all though, so it should be fine to read, but nonetheless be safe!

Miya Atsumu is a strange character. He wields his swords like a shield. They protrude out of him like spines, protecting his heart and mind from what is beyond his control.

His first impressions include, but are not limited to, rude, arrogant, and charming. Almost everyone who has met Atsumu seems to have come to a consensus, though.

Miya Atsumu is an asshole.

And in true Atsumu fashion, he takes it and plays the part. He doesn’t object the title placed upon his head, because it gives him more clarity than he could even know himself. His personality is full of jagged puzzle pieces, less than half of them have any truth, but they form the intricacies of Atsumu, however much he likes that. Examples include;

Loud: First added when his aunt screamed at him to shut up. He was so goddamn _loud_. Miya Atsumu, nine years old, biting back his laugh and nodding in an apology. In its wake, he finds himself laughing twice as loud at school, to compensate for how quiet he is around her, which in its turn gets its own negative reception. But hey, it’s attention, right?

Arrogant: When he made his little sister cry with how he teased her. He didn’t mean it, he didn’t. But one moment she was taunting back and the next his mother snarled at him and told him to stop being so _arrogant_ , his sister cradled to her chest. She was tired, and Atsumu was being a bit of a brat, so he doesn’t blame her. But it doesn’t stop him from keeping it in his memory

Player: He’s sick of getting confessions, in all honesty. He’s sick of having to turn girls away with the excuse of “he doesn’t have the time.” He does. But he can’t bring himself to look at a girl like that. When his classmates gush about the pretty girl from Class 4, it runs through his ears. When he joins his high school volleyball club, he can’t join the other boys who ogle at the third-year manager. He thought that was normal. Osamu hadn’t reacted to her either. It was fine that he didn’t have any better response than “pretty, I guess,” when his classmate asked what he liked in a girl.

But then he began seeing it in places he shouldn’t. In the boy who sat beside him in his class, whose hands lingered a second too long when he lent Atsumu a pencil. In the boy in the swim club, that Atsumu had to work beside when their clubs joined to help at a school event. In Kita-san, who was honest with his words, who was simply _inspiring_.

But boys aren’t supposed to look at other boys like that, are they?

So he chalks it up to admiration, a simple observation that his brain makes objectively.

He learnt what being gay was at the start of his second year.

And completely outside Atsumu fashion, he makes a list.

_What boys like in girls:_  
_\- Long hair_  
_\- Short_  
_\- Cute_  
_\- Boobs?_

He stares at this list, again and again. He closes his eyes, opens them, and reads as if that would change his emotions. It’s a pathetic list, but he has to start somewhere if he wants to be _normal_.

So Miya Atsumu became Miya Atsumu the player, who dated girls like a game and seemed to love volleyball more than he did them.

-

Miya Atsumu is a complete and utter idiot, but by now he knows that.

Running away from his emotions is something he’s unbelievably good at. If he wasn’t dedicated to volleyball, he could probably do that full time. His false sexuality, yet another one of his swords, clatters to the ground miserably like this:

It is 10:35 pm. Atsumu is standing in his brother’s kitchen, and he is yelling. His brother stands feet away from him, not letting up either. His shouts are just as loud. As much as they joke about hate and spite, a true argument between the two is rare. To date, their few genuine fights have been about each other’s wellbeing or volleyball. This one is both. Atsumu doesn’t know how they got here, or where it comes from, but Osamu tells him he can’t just drone on forever like some sort of volleyball machine, he has to enjoy himself at some point. Osamu tells him to travel, live, fucking fall in love or something. In a moment of blind fury, Atsumu’s exterior cracks and he pours out.

“I’m gay!”

The silence is deafening. Atsumu feels his knees go weak before he miserably crumbles to the floor. Osamu is beside him in seconds. A sharp breath.

“Me too.”

They both cry. Idiots.

-

As life progresses, Miya Atsumu has found that his true personality has intertwined so closely with the false titles that he can’t tell most of them apart. He’s snarky, and sarcastic, and quite frankly, an asshole. But attention is attention.

9 times out of 10, Atsumu is loud and brash in his decisions. He’s dramatic. He shouts, cheers, rushes in with what may seem like no thought. But his mind balances the recklessness out with something quieter, deeper. It is calculating, it sits back, like a predator scouting its prey, sizing it up. It is the part of Atsumu’s patchwork personality that completely and truly belongs to him. It is the core that his shield was put up to protect.

Not many people see this side of Atsumu, but Osamu has been a first-hand witness to it throughout their entire lives.

It showed in how Atsumu’s eyes would flicker with momentary humanity, a trace of doubt that would emerge towards the very end of a difficult match. When their sister came home crying because of a boy, it made itself known there. Calm, compassionate, lacking the bite that Osamu cursed the boy’s name with. It showed when they were playing Karasuno, and number 10 leaped with a desire than lit a fire inside Atsumu, his expression quirking in a way only Osamu could decipher. It showed in the quiet moments after Atsumu reappeared after bidding Kita goodbye at the graduation ceremony. (Osamu only learnt years later that Atsumu had confessed in a rush, and honest, loving Kita had told him he was sorry, but he couldn’t accept his confession. Atsumu had seen it coming of course, but that didn’t stop the sting that came with remembering that Kita was now the first and only person to know about his sexuality, and this was how he found out.)

And right now, at the Black Jackals initiation party, it has made its re-emergence.

It was with a sudden gasp in the middle of practice that Inunaki suddenly exclaimed that they’d forgotten to throw an initiation party for Hinata, and by extension, he then remembered they forgot to throw one for Sakusa too, despite him joining a little earlier. The look on Bokuto’s face was almost as if he’d just been arrested. Hinata, being Hinata, was extremely excited. Sakusa, being Sakusa, really would rather if they didn’t do this. Unfortunately, Sakusa has also found himself making a lot of compromises for his team lately.

So now they’re here. It’s a friends and family only occasion, and they’ve rented out a nice, spacious area in the back of a bar, so paparazzi isn’t an issue. This also means that the wilder of the Jackals are allowed to reach the full extent of their drunk selves.

Osamu is here as a guest and as a caterer, so he’s allowed to stay behind after him and his crew finish packing up what has been left. It was the hours of the night where all that anyone was consuming was alcohol or the slightly shitty chips from the snack bowls anyway. He takes a sip from his drink, eyes scanning the room. He should probably say a prayer of thanks for the fact that drunk Bokuto Koutarou hasn’t found him yet. Bokuto really was lovely, he was just a tad excitable. Instead, Osamu scans the crowd for his bastard of a brother, who’s talked to him once all night and just used that time to tease Osamu about his newly developed “complication” with Suna (relationship, Osamu would say if he wasn’t so damn unsure about what it was too). His eyes lock in on a blonde head, and he almost walks over.

Almost.

Atsumu, his idiot brother, snarky, rude and annoying, was sat beside Sakusa Kiyoomi. The same Sakusa that Atsumu complained about for about two weeks when Sakusa first joined the Jackals, and before that when they were in high school, after training camps.

But it’s not really that that stops Osamu. No, it’s the look on his brother’s face. Most wouldn’t pick up on any difference, after all, it’s subtle enough behind the mask of confidence Atsumu puts on when he’s like this. However, Osamu is quite literally bound to Atsumu by blood, and years spent by his brother’s side is telling. He looks calculating, as if he’s studying Sakusa. Sakusa can’t see this, as his head is turned towards Akaashi on his other side, holding a conversation. It isn’t clear enough from here, but Osamu swears he saw a shine in Atsumu’s eyes.

So it is Miya Osamu, who knows his brother’s mind almost akin to how he knows his own because, in essence, they are two sides of the same coin, who is the first to think;

“Huh. That’s weird.”

-

Embarrassingly, Atsumu isn’t even the second to notice. He’s the _third_.

When he calls his brother in a worried daze to try and work out what on earth to do now, Osamu points out that both him and Akaashi have figured it out. What’s stranger is that Osamu doesn’t hold this over Atsumu’s head. _God_ , Atsumu thinks, _it must be bad_.

“Well, have ya got any ideas?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“Because ya have a boyfriend, idiot.”

“Shaddup dickwad, or I’ll put ya on speaker and ya can tell Rin about yer situation.”

Ah, the teasing is back. Atsumu bites back his worries for a moment. He much prefers this to his brother’s pity.

“Please do, Sunarin can probably help way more than ya.”

Suna laughs at him for a whole minute.

“Idiocy really does run in the Miya family, doesn’t it?” Suna chuckles, ignoring the protests from the twins. “Honestly, you should talk to him. Or you’ll end up dancing ‘round it like ‘Samu”

Osamu gives a grunt of disapproval, but he can’t deny anything.

They talk for a bit more, and although most of it is still confusing, Atsumu knows he’s sure about what he’s feeling.

One deep breath. Eyes to the floor, eyes to the ceiling, eyes straight ahead, then closed.

Falling for your teammate probably isn’t smart. The Jackals don’t have any policy about their employees or players dating within the workplace though, another false hope. He doesn’t even understand why he fell.

But what he feels for Sakusa Kiyoomi extends beyond a crush.

It could begin from the Youth training camp in his second year. It could begin from when Sakusa appears into his life again at the Jackals auditions.

Really, it doesn’t begin anywhere. It stops and starts and ebbs and flows, cascading into confusing feelings. It comes in the complaints to his brother after he finished the camp, ranting about the tall, stoic boy who dresses like a sentient highlighter and the word Tuesday at the same time. It comes in watching the Itachiyama matches, seeing a certain ace soar through the air and deliver a spike with a force that shakes Atsumu’s core. Research, he had called it, when his brother found him again.

It comes in the shocking playfulness to Sakusa’s insults that Atsumu discovers fate relentless digging. Atsumu aims to bury himself under people’s skin and itch until they react, but something about the way Sakusa pokes back is so _different_. And oh god, it comes in the rare smiles that Kiyoomi flashes his way, the ones that knock the air out of his lungs and breathe something entirely new into him instead.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

Fuck indeed.

-

Miya Atsumu is many things, technically. He is 23, and he is the starting setter for the MSBY Black Jackals. He is a brother, a son, a nephew, and a friend. He is snarky, annoying, an idiot, and an asshole. He is charming, he is attractive. In the volleyball world, he is known. In the volleyball world, he is admired. He is Miya Atsumu, with unwavering confidence and the inability to hold back his tongue that puts him into trouble more often than he will admit.

But most importantly, Miya Atsumu is human.

The tears that are pricking at his eyes should prove this more than anything.

He scrubs at his eyes aggressively. He gets like this every now and then, it’s stupid and frustrating, but he can’t stop it. It happens in the quiet of the night, the clock that shines on the counter reads 3:05 am. He’s in the Jackals communal lounge and kitchen. He’s lucky that they give the starters dorms, he couldn’t be bothered to buy an apartment for himself. It’d be too quiet.

He came into the lounge in an attempt to leave his bed, where his brain was already running a mile a minute. But the room is so _big_ , and Atsumu is so, so very small. The tears drip over the edge of his eyes, and plop against the table, the mug in his hand might crack if he clenches it any tighter.

It’s so stupid. He’s so stupid. These worries are so dumb and insignificant yet here he is, crying over them like a _child_. This thought just makes the tears flow harder, and Atsumu hits a fist against the table in the sheer hope that it would go away.

“Miya?”

Oh fuck, fuck, no. Not _now_. He scrubs at his eyes again.

“Ah, Omi-kun,” he tries to say, but it comes out in a wavering whisper that shocks even Atsumu himself. Sakusa doesn’t respond, and Atsumu almost laughs at the thought that he might’ve heard Atsumu’s pathetic state and just left. A seat gets pulled out beside him, and Sakusa takes a seat. They sit like that for a little, before Atsumu whispers out a string of _'sorry'_. He laughs hollowly, how pathetic of him, to be whimpering like a fool in front of the man he was very much infatuated with, at 3 am.

But then, a hand brushes against his own, and _Sakusa Kiyoomi is willingly touching him_. The hand wraps around his own, and Atsumu is too shocked to speak.

“You don’t need to apologise,” Sakusa mumbles, looking out a window rather than at Atsumu’s face. Usually, Atsumu would question this, but it’s 3 am, he’s tired, his mind is still wavering dangerously and Sakusa is holding his hand.

He manages sleep by 4:30, back in his bed.

-

Sakusa Kiyoomi is 23. Sakusa Kiyoomi is an Outside Hitter for the MSBY Black Jackals.

Sakusa Kiyoomi is about to punch Miya Atsumu in the face.

Atsumu is spluttering his words, and Sakusa is sure that he just repeated the same sentence three times. Five minutes ago, Sakusa thought it was cute. Now, Atsumu had short-circuited completely, and Sakusa didn’t know whether to be amused or irritated.

“I mean, are ya sure Omi-kun? This has to be a joke right?”

“Miya.”

“Who put ya up to this?” Atsumu chuckled nervously. “Was it Shion? Yeah, it was probably Shion. Or maybe Bokkun? No, no, he wouldn’t. What about-,”

_“Atsumu.”_

Atsumu stops completely, staring at Sakusa with widened eyes, his face shining bright red. The sudden silence willed a blush onto Sakusa’s face too, so he focused his gaze on the wall.

“I’m completely serious. I wouldn’t tell you otherwise,” Sakusa turned his gaze back to Atsumu slowly. “You’re not any of what you make yourself to be, you know? You say you’re arrogant and an asshole, and maybe to some you are, but you’re more than that. To me, yeah, to me you’re,” he pauses. “You’re something special.”

The silence that follows is twice as disgruntling as the rambling from minutes before.

“You’re allowed to reject me, you do know that? It’s a confession. If you don’t feel the same, I understand-,”

“No! I, er, well,” Atsumu grips at the sleeve of his shirt, looking down, then up, then somewhere behind Sakusa, before closing his eyes. “I don’t want to reject it. I’m really happy, honestly.” A smile finds it’s way onto his face. _Beautiful_ , Sakusa’s mind supplies. “I like ya too, Omi. A lot.”

The clock ticks over to 11:11 pm, and when they kiss, Atsumu wishes that he gets to do this again and again.

-

Miya Atsumu is 26. He has finally learned that there is more to life than just volleyball. He plays, of course, he plays with all the might and determination that he played with three years ago. But now, his heart has widened a little bit more.

Life is in the way his brother calls him excitedly in the middle of the day, to tell him “He said yes, oh my god ‘Tsumu, he said yes!”

Life is in the way his sister calls him to say she made it into her dream university, between her happy tears, and the emotion that wells inside him is none other than pride.

Life is in the way his teammates cheerily greet him at practices, in the slaps to his back when the set is just _perfect_.

Life is in the meddling cat that crawled onto his doorstep in the middle of a storm and simply will not leave.

Life is in a stadium, watching the Japan Men’s Volleyball team play a game.

In one of their outside hitters running up,

In the way he leaps,

In the way he smacks down the ball with a pinpoint precision Atsumu has seen again and again,

In the way that when the crowd cheers the spiker’s name, Atsumu knows his voice is the loudest.

Life is in the whispered _‘Good morning’_ in the kitchen, with a mop of black curls resting on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his waist. It is in the teasing, the bickering, the laughs and smiles they share. It is in the _‘I love you’_ that he hears in his ear every morning, every night, and several times in-between.

Finally, Atsumu lets his shield of swords rest, because the fragile core needs not to worry about being pierced again. He breathes.

Miya Atsumu is human, and that’s fucking _beautiful._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that was good! I got this all out in a 5 hour writing energy burst, time to just never write again.
> 
> Anyway, in depth Haikyu!! Character analysis because all the characters have wonderful backstories and motives>>>
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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